Betrayal
by Amanda Mancini
Summary: A songfic to 'Aftertaste' by Reveille. Severus Snape reflects on his past, and looks to the future. Angsty, and in the first person perspective.


**_Betrayal_**

A songfic to _Aftertaste_by _Reveille_ written by Amanda Mancini

_these bare walls hold a familiar theme_

_in this, my home and happy hell_

_the pain i've seen within this empty dream_

_locked and barred inside myself_

I am a Professor at a boarding school in Scottland. Not just any boarding school, but the _best, _reserved for only the _best _in the United Kingdom. However, some might not believe that, due to the abilities of the students here. However, despite their relevant stupidity, they all remain peculiar in one sense... as am I. They are all young wizards and witches, _attempting_ to perfect their skills. To them, I am solely their potions master; greasy haired and fowl. Bringer of detentions and test failures. To them, I am the Head of Slytherin House, Severus Snape. But I know what I am, a Death Eater, whether I like it or not. 

_caged and leashed and smothered in fear_

_so round and round the chamber spins   
you can sink or swim in a sea of tears_

_but the walls keep closing in_

_in the aftertaste_

I was, too, young once, though I must sound incredibly old when I say it that way. I am not old, yet if wisdom truly does come with age, I want no part of it. I know more then I'd like to already. All my mistakes were made in my youth, and yet, I had _still _been accepted into the best wizarding school in the country. From a family of Slytherins and Dark Wizards, I knew my place and was sorted accordingly. From a home of heated tempers I quickly made myself allies and enemies, in which both were factors in my ... upbringing? My downfall? Call it as you will, they made me the man I am today. 
My ancestors had been keen followers of Grindelwald before his downfall in 1945, although thankfully the public had never learned of this. My father had been much to old to be useful to the Dark Lord, _Voldemort_, once he had risen. Old and senile, in the before years he had married a woman much younger then he so he 'would be taken care of', he had told me with a grin. We were not close, my family and I. Their decions never affected my life. My father seemed to accept that, saying that I was like him, and that I would make my own destiny. 
And I had walked into the Dark Lord's outstretched clutch of my own will, fuelled by the hate inside, directed towards my surroundings. _Death to order_, I had thought. _Down with innocence and dung to justice. Because there is none._
Yet looking back, I ask myself what I had wanted, joining a circle of wizards as dark as that one. Had I just wanted acceptance, something to keep me busy? I barely remember the days before the Dark Mark. Whenever I try to think too far back, I can only feel a burning inside. I can only whisps of images, but never experience the full memory. Sometimes, I wonder if I am remembering the past, or if I'm remembering what I _want_ to remember. 

_no where to run and no where to hide_

_disobey and it's the back of the fist_

_raped and tortured from the inside   
with my dignity lost in every hit_

I don't think I would have been the same had it not been for Potter and his gang. Everything I did was in spite of them, and it seemed that at certain times, it was all I lived for. I knew I was being bad when I had joined the Death Eaters. It gave me rush everytime I read about us in The Daily Prophet. I had been on a high for weeks after Potter's parents had been killed. I had no mercy then. No pity. There was only the feeling of strength of power, enough to blind anyone. And indeed, I _had _gained power. After having joined in the summer before my seventh year, my mentors had taught me the spells and potions you could only _dream _to use on your enemies. I excelled in Defence against the Dark Arts now that I knew just what I was up against. I was second only to that creature- _Remus Lupin_ in that class. I often came second in my years at Hogwarts. Had it not been for Potter, _I'd_ have been Head Boy along with Lily Evans... not that I especially wanted to be alongside _her_. 
However, I was _never _second in potions. No one _ever _beat me in potions. I remember when Dumbledore had called me down to his office just before graduation. Of course, I had been scared out of my mind that he might make mention of my 'extra-curricular activities'. But he didn't. He simply asked me if I had ay plans for the future (which I hadn't, really) and had casually brought up the fact that Professor Boilspur was retiring. When Dumbledore asked if I'd like to ake his place, I told him I had to think about it, but really, I had made up my mind before I even left the office. 
A Hogwarts professor wouldn be much more useful to the Dark Lord than a Hogwarts prefect. 

_had to be something, i just had to be someone_

_but i'm overcome by my own self-doubt_

_now where's my freedom, where's my life_

_where's my god, where's my way out?_

_in the aftertaste_

But now, what am I? In the last few years before Voldemort's 'downfall', I 'resigned.' Or rather, one might say I chickened out. After a lengthly conversation with the Headmaster, after having confessed to everything when things had gone too far to bear. That was the only real time in my adulthood where I felt that I had no choice. After all, I couldn't just quit from the Death Eaters. I would have been killed on the spot at best. By being a double agent, I thought that maybe I could right some of the wrongs I had committed. 
Things never work out the way you want. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find out why _He _wanted to kill the Potters. I hadn't any idea who the Death Eater was that was betraying them, and I wasn't even able to help prevent them from being killed. It was strange, how I had felt guilty then, but not when Potter's parents had died. I suppose that even though I had hated James with a passion, I didn't hate him enough to kill him. It was a relief that at least then, Voldemort was gone, and I would no longer have to endure the lies, the fears, and the burning skull on my arm. 
The sweet things never last long. My worst nightmares had come true after I felt the burning again during the Triwizard Tournament, after Potter dissapeared.The Dark Mark on my arm had been growing clearer and clearer, and then my fears had been confirmed. Now, I once again find myself with limited choices, and again I choose the same. 
As dark as I may seem, I _am_ allied with the light. Yet now, I know the Dark Lord will not take me mercifully. Yet, I must take what I am given. Afterall, is it not my just rewards for the mistakes I have made? I have betrayed Dumbledore, and I will forever be in his debt. I have betrayed Voldemort, and I will forever be under his mercy. But mostly, I have betrayed myself. And 'll have to remember that. Forever. 

_it's so dark inside- i can't breath inside_

_i can't move inside- now fade away_

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_I do not own Severus Snape, nor this song._

_Special thanks to all those who review: you are truly the angels of inspiration to a writer,   
Even if all you write is 'That was cool!'_


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